What’s Mine is Mine

Organically Me

I initially started this blog in September of 2012 to force myself to write on a semi-consistent basis, and also to document my travels as a woman free from the constraints of a pre-determined life plan [i.e. high school, college to appease my family, internships to make my resume perky].

I also wanted to see how I’d progress; how I’d grow. As a writer, a human, an adventurer. The likes.

Next, when I downshifted and found myself face down, ass up in a PR firm gig – I then needed an ‘out.’ In. Every. Which. Way. So I switched this baby to a food/lifestyle blog and quit that job immediately – assuring myself that bartending to make ends meet, but using my $70K+ Journalism degree via this blog was A-okay. It was more than okay.

Then, I sort of went AWOL.

Not really, but I definitely moved across the country to a tent in California where I moved on a consistent basis for the past two years and mostly halted any writing on here. From there – the adventures were plenty. The things I only dreamt of doing… and so much more. I’ve slobbishly laid alongside Yosemite squirrels in Curry Village – starved for the day the tourists would flee. I’ve cooked marshmallows with a gaggle of British chicks on the coast of California. And I’ve been eaten alive by bedbugs post-Nicaragua’s official Sunday Funday.

Those are a few of my favorite things.

Memories, man.

I’ve written. A helluva lot. In notebooks, in this computer, on napkins, on receipts. Wherever a blank space made itself available.

I decided to hell with this blog. I had no time for electronics, I had no time for SEO, I had no time to promise precious words to bleed into the interweb on a weekly basis.

So, I set forth to write a book. During this screwed process, I’ve had too much ammunition. Too much clouding my view of the end prize. That, of course, left me with a stupid amount of rambled writings. In order to prepare myself to even press ‘Send’ with my manuscript attached, I figured I should start writing for the public eye again. Even if that public eye was ill-informed on my status of writing due to a lack of PR efforts on my part; it’s the idea that I’m leaking my mumbled mess of words into the information ball.

This isn’t a blog about food. This isn’t a blog about adventures. This isn’t a blog. This is just some chick’s [mine] experiences in life, in the world, in whatever this thing we call reality is. It’s all mine, and if you don’t get it – then, maybe that’s my point.